


I Don’t Understand That Reference

by webcricket



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 06:12:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8193277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webcricket/pseuds/webcricket
Summary: In the Supernatural universe – Winchesters are living in the bunker. Y/N is a solo hunter rescued by the boys a year ago and now living with them at the bunker. I am ignoring some of the myth-arc stuff for this story (Cas has never been human but he is a fallen angel).Explicit warning applies to chapter 7 - general audiences can simply skip that chapter and lose nothing of the plot.





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey, I think we have a case,” Sam pushed back from the laptop. He scowled slightly and rubbed his lip, “Heh, actually two.”

“When it rains it pours,” You looked up from the Enochian text you were squinting at and craned your neck sideways in an overdue stretch, “Whatcha got?”

Everyone had been holed up in the bunker for weeks as the outside world seemed too quiet. You and Sam remained in the library alternately scouring the news sites and police reports for cases and studying the books and archives to brush up on your knowledge. Dean had taken off again last night, presumably on a bender and had not yet emerged from his bunk (however, neither you nor Sam could honestly say for sure whether or not he’d actually returned yet). Cas had disappeared to the lesser explored depths of the bunker four days ago on the pretext of research, but you knew he was binge watching Netflix from the less than cryptic text messages you had been receiving that indicated he seemed to have discovered Doctor Who. You’d rather be watching Doctor Who too. In fact, you’d rather be spending any time at all with Cas. The life of a hunter didn’t present much opportunity for friendship, and being an introvert made it even more challenging. The Winchester’s had saved your ass in a vampire nest a year prior, and they were the closest thing to family you’d had, but around the boys you had to put up a constant front of strength and confidence which taxed your energy. Cas was different and you enjoyed spending time with him. He was easy to be around, to talk to, or to not talk at all. There was never any pressure to be more than yourself with him. You suspected your feelings had developed into something more than platonic friendship, but you weren’t sure Cas could or would be able to return romantic feelings. You accepted that that possibility was very likely, but it didn’t make it any easier to settle the butterflies in your stomach whenever he was looking at you with those unnatural blue eyes.

“Raining sulphur, lake turned to blood and some other omen stuff about a half day’s drive away,” Sam turned the laptop so you could see the screen. He tabbed to the next window and pulled up an unrelated police report, “Here, just outside Helena, Montana, look at this coroner’s report.”

“That,” you raised your eyebrows at the graphic photographs, “Is new.”

The report detailed the autopsy of a woman found completely flayed and eviscerated, her bones strung up on a tiny web of her own intestines.

“The skin and liver are missing,” you stated, “What are you thinking?”

“Not an animal attack?” Sam looked up from texting Dean and leaned back in his chair and snorted a small laugh.

You chuckled too, “Case finding 101 - when the coroner says it’s an animal attack, it’s never an animal attack. I don’t understand how an animal with non-opposable thumbs weaving intestines seems more plausible than the alternative that there are monsters out there.”

“Denial is a powerful weapon of understanding for you humans,” Cas growled from the doorway.

You sat up straight, suddenly conscious of your unkempt hair and rumpled t-shirt. You endeavored to look casual as you hastily tucked some stray wisps behind your ears, “Cas, how’s the research?”

Sam noticed the abrupt shift in yours body language and smiled to himself as he looked between you and Cas.

Cas squinted slightly in confusion as he took a moment to realize you were being sardonic as you knew he hadn’t been researching anything at all. He liked that you challenged his people skills this way so that he was in on the joke and he pursed his lips into a small amused smile as he thought of his reply. “Fantastic,” Cas rolled his smile into a very uncharacteristic silly grin. You grinned back.

Dean entered from the other doorway at that moment looking a little worse for the wear from his nighttime escapades. He was wearing a white t-shirt with the words I <3 Shelly scrawled in bright pink lipstick, sporting a hickey, a shiner, major sex hair, dragging a disheveled plaid shirt behind him and was mysteriously missing a single boot. He squinted at the faces in the room, “What the hell are all of you smiling about?”

You and Sam couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“Whoa, whoa, turn down the volume,” Dean closed his eyes and held a hand to his head.

“How’s Shelly?” Sam continued laughing.

“Peachy,” Dean snarled back.

“How about you?” You sniggered.

Cas had walked up beside Dean and was trying to place two fingers on his forehead to heal Dean’s black and bloodshot eye while Dean was shooing his hand away like a fly.

“I’m awesome,” Dean finally allowed Cas to heal him before glaring at him, “You done?”

“You’re welcome Dean,” Cas stepped away.

“Did someone say something about a case?” Dean slouched into the closest chair.

“What do you think Sam? You and Dean take the case in Helena, it looks like he could use some time sobering up on a long drive,” you looked between Sam and Dean and pointed your chin towards Dean, “Cas and I can check out the demon signs?” You looked to Cas who had his glance fixed on you and immediately looked away shyly.

“Y/N, really? Demons? No, too dangerous,” Dean lurched forward and rested his elbows on his knees, “Not over my dead body you don’t go walking into a horde of demons.”

You shot a hurt look at Dean and then looked to Sam to interject some reason.

Sam nodded in understanding. He got up and crossed the room to put a hand on Dean’s shoulder, “They’ll scout Dean - nothing more. We can’t be in two places at once and this thing in Helena sounds just as bad.” He patted Dean’s shoulder roughly and looked to Cas, “Besides, Cas and Y/N can handle it if anything goes south.”

Cas immediately nodded in agreement, “We can track them south if that is necessary.”

Dean rolled his eyes at you and Sam and gestured his hand towards Cas in exasperation before shaking his head.

“Do you not want us to track them if they go south?” Cas cocked his head, not understanding.

“Nevermind,” Dean grumbled, “Cas, you’ll keep her safe.”

Cas nodded.

It was your turn to roll your eyes at Dean. Once again he didn’t trust you to be a strong enough hunter to get the job done. It didn’t matter that you had hunted alone, and stayed alive, for years before you got cornered in the vampire nest and the brothers saved the day. How many times had Sam saved Dean’s hide and vice versa? You did it alone, and Dean was holding the one time you needed help over your head like he’d never needed rescue. You hated that Dean couldn’t let it go without an argument, not even one time. Not even when he knew an angel would be with you. And of course Cas didn’t need to be told to protect you - it went without saying – he watched over each of you.

“Okay,” Sam’s voice cut through the tension. He gave Dean a final pat on the shoulder.

“Alright,” you sighed, “It’s a plan.” You turned to Cas, “You in?”

Cas looked perplexed, “I am in…the bunker?”

Sam laughed and Dean grimaced.

You shot the brothers a look of disapproval and smiled gently at Cas, “It’s an expression Cas. It means will you join in the activity that was just discussed.”

“Oh,” Cas looked abashedly at his feet and then back into your eyes earnestly, “Allons-y.”

You grinned and Cas gave a smile of satisfaction - he was getting better at this game.


	2. Chapter 2

You and Cas had driven in comfortable silence the past few hours, heading towards Green Valley, Wisconsin, the center of the omen activity. You had made certain you high tailed it out of the bunker fast - before the brothers could change their mind. It would be a 12 hour journey and you figured there would be plenty of time to look into the town before you arrived. The sound of a buzzing phone interrupted the silence.

You grabbed your phone and answered, “Hey Sam, you’re on speaker. What’s up?”

“Y/N, Cas, I’m sending you some interesting stuff I found on that town,” Sam stated, “It seems it’s not the first time something out of the ordinary has gone down.”

“Thanks, we’ll check it out,” you replied, “Any luck with your basket weaving liver thief?”

“Maybe,” Sam sounded hopeful, “I’m tracing some leads into the mythology of the indigenous peoples of that area. It goes way back to the Folsum culture so it’s going to take a while. I’ve got a call in to an old friend of Bobby’s. She’s our first stop when we get there.”

You heard a car door slam and Dean mumble something in the background.

“Call if you need anything,” Sam sounded as though he were struggling to hang on to the phone, “Check in later.” And with that the call ended.

You handed your phone to Cas, “Want to pull up what Sam sent?”

“Of course,” Cas accepted the phone and began reading through the links Sam had forwarded, “Green Valley is a small agriculture town with a population of about 1,000.”

You smiled inwardly, “Cas, how about we skip to the interesting part?”

“Lore tells that the area was so named when a forest fire claimed over 1,800 square miles of surrounding land but spared the beautiful green valley,” Cas offered.

“Now that is interesting,” you cooed approvingly.

“There’s more,” Cas was encouraged by your tone, “There is speculation that the fire was caused by a fireball falling to Earth.”

You glanced questioningly over; your interest definitely piqued now, “Something falling from Heaven?”

Cas stared forward, unmoving, thinking about it for a moment before shaking his head, “I do not know. When we are closer I may have a better sense.”

Cas was still on Heaven’s most wanted list for the fiasco with Metatron and his aid to the Winchesters. Although he didn’t belay that worry into words, you could tell he’d just added angels to the possible list of foes awaiting you.

“We’ll be cautious,” you reassured him.

Cas looked back to the phone as it buzzed again and held it up for you to see the text:

Sleepy Hollow Motel highway 22 Gillett WI white tiger room killer cheeseburgers tell Gina hello –Dean

“How does he remember these things?” you shook your head in disbelief, “I would think the hangovers alone would be enough to wipe his memory.”

Cas looked out the window and opened and closed his mouth while struggling to come up with an answer.

You quickly reached over and put a hand on his arm to end the torment, “It’s a rhetorical question Cas. It’s not meant to be answered.”

“Good,” Cas sighed relief and paused for a moment. He looked over at you, his features softened and sincere, “You are not like Dean and Sam.”

“I hope not!” You reluctantly pulled your arm away, not wanting Cas to sense you were becoming flustered with the prolonged contact.

“I mean,” Cas paused again searching for words, “You do not judge or laugh at me. You are an excellent teacher and kind,” he looked down – it was his tell when he was unsure, “You do not make me feel…stupid.”

You felt your cheeks get hot as a blush painted its way across your complexion. You focused all your senses on the road and the hum of the car engine and the vibration of the tires on the pavement. It was everything you could do to keep from throwing yourself at him right then and there. You reminded yourself that it was just a compliment, not a declaration of love. And maybe it wasn’t even that, it was a statement. Cas had a way of pointing out the obvious, and you were obviously nicer to him than Dean or Sam in terms of his social and conversational shortcomings. That’s it, just a statement. Milliseconds felt like hours and you blinked hard and took a deep breath.

Cas was looking over now, wondering if he’d said something wrong, “Y/N, what I mean is thank you.”

You finally managed to return his gaze and give Cas a small smile as you stuttered, “You’re welcome, Castiel.”

Cas smiled back. Something about him saying your name and you saying his full name felt overwhelmingly intimate. Your heart was pounding in your ears again and if the heat in your cheeks was any indication, your face was beet red. You regretted it instantly.

“How about some music?” The previously comfortable silence had become too heavy for you to tolerate.

“I would like that,” Cas assented.

You scrolled through the local radio stations before settling on a station playing classics - Fred Astaire was crooning Cheek to Cheek. You glanced over to see if Cas approved and he was already swaying his head slightly in time to the music. You relaxed and smiled at the sight and turned your focus back to the road ahead.


	3. Chapter 3

The Sleepy Hollow Motel was just as kitschy as you would expect a motel recommendation from Dean to be. You were not surprised to see the vacancy sign flashing as you pulled up to the log cabin fronted office.

“Look Cas, wildlife themed rooms,” you pointed to the poster in the front window depicted everything from tigers to alligators.

Cas squinted at the poster and stated flatly, “White tigers are not native to this continent.”

You chuckled, “Must be these folks have a policy of continental non-discrimination.”

As usual, Cas didn’t get the joke, but you didn’t mind, “Let’s just pray they have a double open.”

“Prayers are not necessary - I do not require a bed,” he noted.

“Right, angels don’t sleep,” you bit your lip innocently, “But if we don’t have an extra bed, where will I store my duffle?”

You were used to being the odd man out on hunts with Dean and Sam and having a room to yourself with two beds - one for sleep and one for your stuff. And frankly, the double rooms were more often than not the only thing available in flea bag motels like these. Your brain kept prattling on while Cas stared at you blankly. You cursed yourself for trying to flirt with him - again. It was about as useful as banging your head on a wall and you always hated yourself for confusing him after the fact and then hated yourself for getting worked up about it.

“Why don’t you check in with Dean and Sam,” you practically leapt out of the car, not looking back as you opened the office door.

“Way to go Y/N, only two awkward silences in one 12 hour trip,” you mumbled under your breath as you approached the desk and rang the bell which was disconcertingly nestled in the middle of a remarkably lifelike taxidermy king cobra. You noted to yourself that this particular snake was definitely not native to this continent.

“Ma’am,” a young man dressed in full cowboy attire sauntered in from the back.

You half-smiled - this place was a regular circus act. You stole a look back at the car. As you had suggested, Cas was on the phone, probably to Dean. You hoped Dean wasn’t lecturing him about your safety again. You turned back to the young man and read his name tag, “Nevin. Hi. Do you have anything with a kitchenette for the week?”

Nevin looked over your shoulder to the car and grinned, “Sure ma’am. The honeymoon cabin is open, nice and secluded if you know what I mean.” He gave you an exaggerated wink.

Your eyes popped wide and you caught a laugh in your throat by covering it with a cough. You looked back again at the car. Cas was off the phone now - he gave you a thumbs up. You doubled over coughing as Nevin dashed to the corner of the office to get you a cup of water from the cooler. You graciously accepted it from him.

“I didn’t mean, are you okay ma’am?” Nevin asked worriedly.

“I’m fine. Really, thank you,” you smiled and shook your head, “Allergies.”

Nevin nodded in sympathy.

You briefly thought about taking Nevin up on his offer of the honeymoon cabin. Cas’s ill-timed thumbs up nearly convinced you it was fate, but you reminded yourself it was just Cas letting you know he’d done what you asked and checked in with Dean and Sam.

You cleared your throat, “My research partner and I are here from the state college doing a weather study. Really interesting stuff happening around here lately! Thousand year cycle kind of phenomena, it’s all going to be published in our paper,” you grinned enthusiastically, “You wouldn’t know anything about that?”

Nevin scrunched his lips and shook his head, “Strangest thing really. You know just this morning the rain stunk something awful like rotten eggs. My folks is down in the valley, I’m just back from visiting my cousin, they’d be able to tell you more.” His features turned grave and he leaned in closer, “Me maw’s cabin is on Mud Lake and they say the water turned to blood.”

“This is in the valley, as in Green Valley?” You prodded as you fished a business card out of your pocket.

Nevin nodded eagerly.

You passed the card across the desk, “Nevin, you are a ray of sunshine! You know, we are headed there tomorrow and I would love to set up an interview.”

“Aw sure, ain’t nothing,” Nevin scribbled down a phone number and handed it over proudly.

“Now about that room with a kitchenette?” You dropped your palm gently on the counter.

“Yes ma’am, double, kitchenette, room 14,” he wrote up the receipt and pushed the log book and key across the counter for you to sign.

You signed and passed the book back with cash payment, “I mean it Nevin, ray of sunshine.”

The young man blushed.

You scooped up the keys and headed for the door, stopping and turning back with your hand on the knob, “One favor?”

“I’d be obliged,” Nevin beamed.

“If you hear of anyone else asking about this strange weather stuff, you let me know. And keep this between us. Competitive business, weather research, always someone out there trying to one-up us,” you smiled warmly drawing Nevin in to the trap.

“Yes, ma’am,” Nevin practically saluted.

You opened the door and stepped back into the night air noting for the first time that it did indeed smell of sulphur from that morning’s rain. You saw that Cas was looking intently at something on his phone. Sam probably sent along some more info. You inhaled deeply despite the unpleasant odor before crossing the remaining distance to the car and hopping nimbly inside.

Cas didn’t look up, his brows were furrowed as he continued to study the phone.

You gazed at him for a moment as you put the key in the ignition, noting how wrinkled his trench coat appeared from the long drive and you wondered how exactly magic de-wrinkling mojo fit into the whole angel of the lord business. Your eyes and thoughts flitted to Cas’s hair, and you fondly remembered the way it used to look perfectly wind tousled all the time back when he could fly and you wondered why angels didn’t also have magic hair combing mojo even though you really did appreciate the wind tousled look.

Cas was looking at you now, “Y/N, is something wrong?”

You inhaled sharply through your nose at being caught lost in thoughts of him, “Nope.” It wasn’t a lie, nothing was wrong, but nothing was exactly right either, “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

“Sam sent more information about the valley. Some of it is,” he paused, “Unsettling.”

You allowed a yawn to escape, “Sorry Cas, long day. I just need some coffee.”

“No, you should sleep. I will continue researching,” Cas stared back at the phone and climbed out of the car.

“Cas!” You tossed a room key his way before he could shut the door. He caught it without looking. You didn’t need to tell him to be careful but you did say a little prayer that he would be safe.

With that you cranked the ignition and headed for your room - watching in the rear view mirror as Cas walked out onto the highway.


	4. Chapter 4

You swung open the motel door and reached blindly along the wall seeking the light switch. Your fingers hit on the switch and light dimly filtered through the room from a small lamp on the kitchen table. Too exhausted from the day’s drive to acknowledge the tackiness of the myriad of taxidermy mounted on the walls, you headed for the nearest bed and tossed up your duffle which landed in a chorus of creaky springs. You ran your fingers lazily through your hair before sitting on the edge of the bed and staring blankly at the tiger skin rug at your feet, “Unsettling.” You tried the word out loud, wondering what Cas meant. You fumbled wearily in your pocket for your phone and pulled up Cas’s number. Your finger paused over the connect button before indecisiveness got the better of you and with a yawn you tossed the phone beside your duffle. Ruffling through your belongings, you grabbed your toiletry kit and headed for the bathroom. You’d grab a few hours of shut eye and then check in with Cas.

Upon completing his mysterious sojourn down the highway, Cas had returned to the motel and was standing outside your room contemplating the door key. He didn’t want to wake you - he knew human’s required adequate sleep to function and you’d driven 12 hours straight on precious little sleep to get there. He made to walk to a nearby picnic area to patiently wait for the morning light when he heard sounds of a struggle and you crying out from within the room. In one fluid movement he was through the door – eyes glowing blue, angel blade in hand and poised to attack. His eyes faded and shoulders relaxed when he perceived you were safely in bed, but concern clouded his features as he realized you were in the throes of what must be a violent nightmare.

He padded quietly over to your side and sat beside your trembling sleeping frame, hesitating only a moment as he placed a hand gently on your shoulder, “Y/N?”

You awoke with a start - vision bleared by tears - and instinctively grabbed the arm on your shoulder, opposite hand shooting up to your attacker’s throat. In a swift movement, you had your foe on his back, straddling him with knife you keep under your pillow pressed into his throat. Cas could have easily overpowered you, but he didn’t want to hurt you or startle you anymore, so he lay there calmly - albeit a little surprised at the position he now found himself in.

“Cas?” Your senses were coming around.

“I am sorry I startled you Y/N,” Cas’s eyes darted sheepishly toward the wall as you pulled the knife away from his throat and shifted your weight back, “You were experiencing a nightmare.”

You blinked at him – realization creeping into your conscious that you currently had Cas pinned between your legs. Emboldened by your half-asleep state, you experimentally rocked from one knee to the other, eyes fixed on his. A very low grumble escaped his chest as he returned your gaze, his blue eyes wide with surprise and uncertainty. You felt your face flush at his reaction and you instantly rolled off of him, immediately missing the heat of his body beneath yours.

“It’s okay,” you rubbed the remaining tears and sleep from your eyes, “Thank you.”

Cas pushed himself upright to recline against the headboard as he searched his mind for the correct social response, “The nightmare - do you want to talk about it?”

You looked down and shook your head no while gathering the sheets and blanket back up over your body.

The nightmare wasn’t new, nor was it a nightmare. It was a memory, one you hadn’t shared with anyone because it wouldn’t make what happened to your family any less real or any less painful. You couldn’t save them, how could you? You were only a child when they were murdered mercilessly in front of you - the ghouls cruelly laughing at your attempts to fight them off and in the end leaving you alive. You used the pain of that memory like a weapon to save others, to hunt, to keep you going when all hope was lost. In this world that pain was the only thing that was yours alone and you protected it with your life.

Cas watched you for a moment, seeing the struggle in your eyes, a frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. He didn’t know why or what it was, but something pulled inside him at the thought of not being able to help you.

You caught his conflicted gaze and gave him a pallid smile, “I’m good.”

Cas nodded, accepting your lie, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, moving to stand before you caught his arm.

“Stay,” you implored.

He looked back and met your eyes, “Of course.”

He crawled back into the bed, lying on his back, and you swiftly snuggled up to his side. Aware that humans found contact comforting and wishing to offer you more comfort, he placed his arm around your back and pulled you in even tighter. You sighed approvingly. He carefully shifted the hair out of your face and gently swiped two fingers across your forehead banishing the puffy redness in your now closed eyes. Being so close, his grace wrapped you in a protective aura. “Good night,” Cas whispered, but you had already succumbed to sleep.

Morning light streamed through the space between the blinds, highlighting the dust floating in the air. You opened your eyes, feeling more peaceful and rested than you had in, well, ever. You were facing the edge of the bed, instantly aware that Cas was spooning you. You didn’t dare move for several minutes, relishing the feeling of his arms holding you and the strange tingling radiance in the air around you. As wakefulness roused you more and more, it dawned on you that Cas wasn’t asleep, didn’t sleep, and even now he must have known by your increased heart and respiratory rate that you weren’t asleep any longer.

Be casual, you ordered yourself as you leaned back into his chest before sitting up and drawing your knees to your chest, “Morning.”

Cas sat up beside you, “Did you sleep well?”

You turned to face him, smiling warmly, “The best sleep I’ve ever had.”

If you didn’t know better, you would have thought Cas blushed, “I am glad.”

You smiled again and laughed to yourself taking in the fact that Cas was fully clothed from trench coat to shoes - in the darkness and confusion of the night, you hadn’t realized it.

“Thank you for staying. I forget that you don’t sleep - you must have been quite bored listening to me snore away all night,” you stood from the bed and began rummaging through your duffle for a change of clothes.

“Not at all, your soul sings sweetly, your body is soft and warm, and your hair smells of spring,” Cas blurted out as if it was a perfectly ordinary thing to say, “It was a pleasant way to pass the time.”

You stopped your rummaging and turned to face him, mouth gaping slightly in shock, you definitely hadn’t expected Cas to say anything so, intimate.

Cas looked equally surprised with himself, and began to look everywhere but at you.

An amused smile plastered itself on your face, “I am glad,” you said mimicking Cas’s earlier intonation. You watched the flustered angel for a few more precious seconds before offering him some relief, “By the way, what’d you find with the case?”


	5. Chapter 5

Cas crossed the room to peer out the window. When he turned back toward you, his brow was deeply furrowed.

“What is it Cas?” Your stomach dropped, you’d never seen him look so somber.

“I walked into the valley last night to confirm information Sam sent about an archaeological dig. The report led me to deeply sacred ground. Someone dug there for a very long time – a hundred years or more - and it appears they found what they sought,” he again looked out the window as if he were expecting unwanted guests, “Y/N, if this is what I believe it to be - it’s bad.”

“Okay, we’ve handled bad before,” you sat on the edge of the bed and nervously scratched the back of your neck, “On a scale of 1 to apocalypse, how bad is bad?”

Cas looked at you gravely, “End of creation.”

“Well, that’s not great news,” you bit your lip and solemnly dropped your head, “What are we up against?”

“A rumor – one that I am beginning to believe,” Cas stepped away from the window and sat on the couch, “If I’m correct, we are up against the power of God himself.”

You raised an eyebrow, “God is back?”

Cas tensed his lips and shook his head, “Not God - the God tablet.”

You tried to form your racing thoughts into words, but nothing seemed to make sense. Why would God create a tablet for himself – you knew how powerful the angel and demon tablets were, and how dangerous.

Cas noted your confusion, “The God tablet was not knowingly commissioned by God.”

“Metatron,” you groaned.

“Metatron,” Cas agreed, “He recorded God’s stories about creation and about wrath – about all the mysteries of his power – according to the scribe, God liked to boast about his accomplishments.”

“Sulphur rain, fire and brimstone, Sodom and Gomorrah,” you mumbled, “God’s playbook. But I thought you needed a…”

Cas cut you off, “Prophet to decipher the text? Yes.”

“Prophet equals human, and I’m pretty sure most of us humans aren’t interested in the end of creation as we know it,” you interjected.

“Indeed,” Cas concurred, “However, I now believe I know which of my brethren is behind this, and he can be very persuasive.”

“Let me guess,” you wrung your hands, “This angel fell to Earth about the same time of the massive fire in this area that spared only Green Valley?”

“The tablet protected itself and the valley - it’s how he knew where to dig,” Cas clarified.

“Cas, I get that the tablet is bad news, but we’re not exactly outmatched here - it’s going to take the prophet time to completely decipher the tablet. Kevin was brilliant and he struggled,” you were trying to see the bright side.

Cas looked even more grim, “Y/N, there is more. The town – generations of humans in close proximity to the tablet – a reverent population. They are nearly all perfect vessels, and my brothers and sisters are among them.”

“Green Valley, population about 1000,” you recalled as you were slowly starting to comprehend the enormity of what was going on, “How many are angels?”

“All of them,” Cas confessed, meeting your eyes.

You stared back into his blue eyes, your own Y/E/C eyes full of astonishment and wonder. A thousand angels, an army, standing by to defend their new God. One angel was a powerful warrior, but a thousand? The longer you held Cas’s gaze, the more deeply you could see into his troubled thoughts, and what you saw made your heart skip – he was scared. Your dear angel - bold, brash, unfaltering in the face of death itself - was scared.

“Cas,” you moved to sit beside him on the couch and tentatively placed your hand on his arm. You sensed the same tingling radiance you’d felt that morning and tightened your grasp, “What do we do?”

He pondered your hand - the fleeting appearance of a smile touching the corners of his eyes and mouth. He placed his other hand reassuringly over yours, the tingling now an even more pleasant buzz, “Save the world,” he said matter-of-factly.

You couldn’t help but grin as you nudged his shoulder playfully, “Well yeah, of course, but do you think we should call in the experts on this one? I mean, I’d love to have a saved-the-world card in my deck, but this is kind of a Winchester thing.”

“Sam and Dean do have a talent for overcoming insurmountable odds,” Cas wasn’t sure what to make of your shoulder nudge, although he didn’t find it objectionable.

“Time to check in then,” you hopped up to get your phone off the nightstand. You didn’t see it, but Cas gave a look of longing as you let go of his arm.

“Hey Sam, how’s Montana?” You put on a cheery voice so as not to worry the brothers right away.

“Y/N, hey,” Sam sounded upbeat, “We’re already on the road back.”

“Are you boys trying to set some kind of case wrapping record,” you thought Sam must be joking, “You just got there this morning.”

“No really, uh, you’re not going to believe this,” Sam laughed, “This monster was almost too stupid to gank.”

“Go on,” you urged.

“It’s called a Basket Ogress – basically a story people in the area used to tell their children to keep them from wandering. Like most of these stories, it had some basis in reality,” Sam continued, “Turns out some recent river erosion exposed the cave where this thing was lying in hibernation. The victim was reported to have been kayaking in the area so it wasn’t hard to track. And you know Dean’s pretty motivated when it comes to spending as little time out in the wilderness as possible, ow,” Sam grunted as Dean punched his arm.

“And how did you kill it?” You wondered.

“Fire - ice heart just like Chenoo,” Sam stated before asking, “How are things in the badger state?”

“Better put me on speaker,” you stated.

“Y/N? What’s going on?” Dean’s voice was gruff with concern.

“Hey Dean,” you let your shoulders slump, “Guys, we’re going to need some backup here post haste.”

“What? Are you okay?” Sam’s voice was an octave lower than usual, and airy, something he did when he was worried.

“We’re safe for now,” you peered over at Cas who nodded affirmation of your statement – he was once again stationed at the window looking out, “But it’s bad.”

“Bad?” Sam and Dean questioned in unison.

“Long story short, some rogue angel found the God tablet and a prophet to unveil God’s powers and now a legion of angels is in town waiting for whatever comes next,” you spit out in one breath.

The brothers were silent before Sam spoke up, “Legion?”

“You’re going to want to pick up a tanker of holy oil on the way here,” you counseled in a snarky tone, “Only trick they’ve got so fair is raining brimstone, but I imagine anything in the good book is fair game.”

“Great, God’s greatest hits,” Dean huffed, “You and Cas lay low until we get there.”

“For once, no argument,” you turned your back to Cas and lowered your voice, “Guys, hurry.”


	6. Chapter 6

The angle of daylight had marched across the window steadily as the hours melted away - Cas’s shadow shifting along the floor as he stood silent sentinel garnering what information he could on angel radio. You’d had your head buried in religious texts all day, trying to find something, anything, that might help. You were discouraged time and time again as one promising insight after another ended nowhere. You glanced down at your phone – Sam and Dean would be at least 10 more hours. There was nothing to do until they arrived. Either you would figure something out, or you’d die trying. Either way it would be together. Fed up, feeling cooped up and hungry, you slammed your laptop closed and pushed it across the table in disgust.

Sliding back in the chair, you rubbed your face wearily and stood, grabbing your jacket, “I need some air.”

Before you could reach the door, Cas stirred from the window and blocked the way - planting his hand firmly against the door, his voice gravelly, “I do not think it would be wise to go out.”

You met his stern gaze, and pressed your hand tenderly to his chest, “That doesn’t mean I’m not going to go.”

Cas’s features softened - almost in time with the tingling feeling that grew in your arm the longer you pressed it to his chest. You gave him a gentle shove and he stepped back, reaching up to touch his chest where your hand had slipped away. You pretended not to notice his reaction as you deftly slinked out the door. Cas was immediately beside you, glancing far and wide around the parking lot.

“Your paranoia is going to draw attention to us,” you took a few bounding steps forward, spinning on your heel to walk backwards to observe the angel.

“It is not…paranoia,” Cas frowned at the word, but visibly relaxed at your prodding, “The peril is not imagined.”

“And there is nothing we can do about it right now,” you kicked at a car tire, feeling reinvigorated by the cool fresh air, “Except dessert.”

He cocked his head quizzically.

You bounced back to him, dashing your arm through his and pulling him along toward the diner across the street, “Ice cream, Cas, ice cream.”

You were completely abuzz by the time you slid into the booth at the back of the diner - reluctantly putting a bit of space between yourself and Cas as you sat. Being close to him, touching him, felt like nothing you’d experienced before. By his reactions back at the motel, you thought perhaps he felt something to - being close to you - even though contact wasn’t normally something Cas sought out. You wondered if he felt the electrifying tingle too, or if it was only your imagination.

“What can I get you folks?” The server sidled up to the table and whipped out a small pad of paper.

“Hot fudge sundae, with peanuts, please,” you smiled.

She nodded and turned to Cas, “And you, sir?”

“Coffee, thank you,” he nodded curtly.

The server smiled and scurried off to the kitchen.

You cleared your throat to capture Cas’s attention. He was visually scouting the diner and looking tense again. “Best seat in the house from a tactical perspective,” you pointed out, “I know we’re still on the clock.” It was second nature for you to pick a wall seat near an exit with a full view of the entrance and windows.

Cas merely nodded.

You innocently allowed your knee to fall against his, intently studying his reaction. You smiled as you saw his posture relax, his eyes darting hesitantly to meet yours. You saw uncertainty in the deep blue, but something else too.

“You kids enjoy,” the server had returned, setting down your sundae, a steaming cup of coffee, and two spoons.

The smell of warm chocolate was overpowering and drew your focus away from Cas. You dug in - the first spoonful plastering a blissed out half-lidded expression on your face and eliciting a soft moan from your throat.

Cas was gazing at you, a small amused smile at the corner of his mouth.

You pushed the sundae closer to him and raised your eyebrows, “Want some?”

He picked up the spoon, scrunching his nose as he took a small bite, “Tastes, hot…and cold.”

“No, it is hot and cold, and it tastes delicious,” you corrected him before stuffing another heaping spoonful into your mouth.

Cas leaned forward, pressing his knee harder into yours - sending tendrils of electric energy up your thigh and warmth surging through your body. Your breath hitched at the sensation. He ventured another bite, this time making a more agreeable face. “Delicious? Yes, delicious,” his expression now one of complete understanding. It was as though he’d experienced exactly what you were feeling. His knee eased away from yours, but did not break contact.

You gaped back at him in wonder, “Cas, what was that?”

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” his demeanor suddenly flustered as he pulled away from you, “I, uh…”

Your hand shot to his knee drawing him back, eyes seeking his. “Castiel,” your voice was barely a whisper as you leaned in closer.

His eyes danced from your Y/E/C eyes to your lips. He reached up, tenderly cupping your face in his hand and brushing a thumb over your lips, bringing it to rest on your chin. Gazing into his deep blue eyes, you couldn’t hold back any longer - closing the remaining distance and pressing your lips softly against his. Cas returned the kiss, at first awkwardly mirroring your movements, but then finding his own path - entangling his fingers in your hair and pulling you tightly to his chest. You traced your tongue against his lower lip, deepening the kiss as he parted his lips. The air around you was vibrating as your body reminded you that you needed to breath. You slid your hand to the back of his head, teasing your fingers at the nape of his neck, causing him to break away, eyes closed, with a soft groan. You let your head fall to his chest, panting for air.

“Y/N,” he growled softly, rubbing small circles into your back as you wrapped your arms around him. Your whole body was pleasantly ringing, and the sound of his voice only intensified the feeling. He ran his fingers along your jaw and angled your chin up to meet his gaze – all uncertainty was gone from his eyes, his pupils blown dark and full of yearning. You smirked, pushing off of his chest and fumbling in your pocket before throwing cash on the table to cover the bill. Cas slid from the booth, taking up your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours - this time it was him pulling you back to the motel.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Explicit content in chapter 7!

You clumsily attempted to insert the key into the door as Cas held you from behind nuzzling your hair and neck, his arm curled around your waist, pulling you close – the heat between your bodies radiating into the cool night air. His tender affection and warmth, and that energy between you was a distraction to your senses and your fingers faltered again. Cas reached his free hand up to steady yours, turning the lock and guiding you both inside.

You giggled as Cas picked you up, firmly pressing your back to the closed door and peppering soft electric kisses along your collarbone. You ran your fingers through his hair, tousling it the way you liked before pushing the trench coat off his shoulders. Freeing his arms from your waist, he shrugged the coat and his suit jacket off into a pile as you grabbed his tie - using it to pull him closer and guide his mouth back to yours. His tongue caressed your lower lip and you parted your lips with a needy moan, allowing him access. Dropping his tie, you ran your hands over his chest tugging at the buttons of his shirt, sighing in delight as your fingers met bare flesh and sparks of energy washed over them.

A low groan escaped his throat and he leaned back to study your face - his features expressing a mix of pleasure and surprise - his eyes were awash in blue light. You stroked his cheek, curiously examining the white light emanating from your fingers as they brushed across his skin. You gazed back at him questioningly.

He took your hand in his, placing a chaste kiss on your palm, “It’s your soul Y/N, and my grace, resonating. I did not know it was possible - harmony, union like this…with a human,” Cas pressed your palm to his cheek, closing his eyes, relishing your touch.

“Castiel, my angel,” standing on your tip toes you kissed his forehead, “My love.”

He hummed contentedly, “I am yours - you are mine.” Cupping your face with both hands, he captured your lips in a tender kiss.

The kiss grew more impassioned as you walked him slowly backward toward the bed - discarding shoes and tearing off his shirt - until he had no choice but to sit. Unwilling to relinquish close contact, he pulled you forward to straddle his lap. Gazing up at you, his eyes gleamed an even more intense blue as you shrugged off your jacket and pulled your shirt off over your head. He traced blazing trails of light on your torso as you placed your hands on his shoulders, smiling wryly as you rocked from one knee to the other, grinding your hips deeper into him, feeling his growing erection. He pulled you closer, nuzzling and kissing between your breasts as he slid his hands up your back, unclasping and discarding your bra. He looked up to meet your eyes as he nipped his way to your neck, moving his hands to cup your breasts, rubbing small circles around each nipple. You continued to gently rock your hips, head falling back with a sharp gasp as tendrils of pleasure shot from your chest to your core. You ran your hands through his hair, paying special attention to his sensitive nape as your hips rolled deeper into his arousal. He growled into your neck, and in a swift motion, grabbed you around the waist and pinned you on the bed beneath his body. Relenting his attention to your neck, he began planting warm open mouth kisses down the center of your body – waves of heat radiating outward in their wake as his grace caressed you. His kisses reached your navel, and he paused to unbutton your jeans. You raised up your hips up as he tugged your jeans and underwear down your legs, instantly returning his mouth to your body, kissing the top of each of your thighs in turn, smelling your arousal. He gently moved your legs apart, running his fingers inquisitively between your dripping folds, grazing your clit as you moaned, throwing your head back in ecstasy.

“Castiel,” your voice was velvety and laced with need.

He growled, crawling back up your body, crashing his lips to yours as you reached down to undo his belt buckle and trousers – his cock twitching in response to your touch.

“Y/N,” he broke away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, staring deep into your soul. You ran your finger along the stubbly angle of his jaw, stopping at the divot of his chin.

“I need you, Castiel,” you purred his full name again, taking pleasure in the animalistic grunt he made.

You dug your nails into his back, raking them across his sides down his chest and pushing him up and off the bed - following him to the edge. Slipping off his pants and boxers, you leaned over, kissing and nuzzling his chest as he ran his hands through your hair. You grasped his shaft and began gently stroking his cock as he groaned, reflexively bucking his hips into your hand. He tilted your face up to meet his glowing lust blown pupils, bending down to press your lips with a delicate kiss as he lay you both back into the bed. You wrapped your legs around his waist, reaching between your bodies to line him up with your entrance as he lowered his hips and plunged into you. You gasped as he filled and stretched you and he stilled himself with a rumbling groan, head falling against your neck. You tilted your hips up slightly, prompting him to move, and he tentatively withdrew and thrust into you again, this time brushing your g-spot and sending a wave of electricity racing to your core.

“Castiel,” you moaned, your hips rising to meet his thrust - it was all the encouragement he needed.

He set a steady rhythm, growling as your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, digging in your nails. He thrust into you again and again, the coil of pleasure in your core becoming ever tighter, his thrusts becoming needier, a brightening light surrounding your bodies – white and blue. You began to squirm and lose pace with his thrusts as you neared your climax, your whole body vibrating with pleasure.

“Y/N, I…close your eyes,” he reached between your bodies, rubbing your clit and sending you tumbling over the edge to orgasm - a blinding light shone against your closed eyelids as he followed, groaning into your neck as he thrust deep, cock pulsing, spilling himself inside you.

He collapsed on you, brushing the sweat dampened hair away from your face and kissing your closed eyes, “It’s okay, you can open them now.”

You slowly blinked, peering back at his blue eyes, the light was gone from them now.

“My true form, I couldn’t hold it back,” his thumb brushed your temple tenderly, “I was afraid I would hurt you.”

You smiled contentedly, running your hands tenderly up and down his back, “You could never hurt me.”

He softly kissed your swollen lips, a grumbling sigh vibrating through his chest. He buried his arm beneath your waist, and rolled over onto his back, pulling your body to his side. You reached across his chest and hugged him tight as he lazily rubbed circles into your back. Relaxing into his embrace, you glanced to his face – his eyes were closed, lips slightly parted. With a happy sigh, you closed your eyes and fell into deep sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

You awoke with a start to the sound of deep voices quietly bickering just outside the door. You nudged Cas with your elbow to rouse him, the oddity of the notion that he seemed to actually be asleep getting pushed to the back of your mind for the moment.

“Cas,” you whispered, slipping from the sheets and pulling on what clothes were nearby, “Someone’s outside.”

He rubbed his eyes wearily, watching as you grabbed the gun from your duffle and swiftly ducked over to the wall by the door.

The voices were quiet now, and you tensed, gun aimed, as the door suddenly swung open and two figures burst through.

“What the hell, Cas?” Dean’s unmistakable rough voice boomed loudly. He recoiled backward, awkwardly pushing past Sam to get outside.

You lowered your gun, glancing over to Cas where he stood at the end of the bed, in all his angelic unabashed glory, one leg tangled in the sheets, angel blade in hand.

You smiled, chuckling softly to yourself.

“We’ll give you two a few minutes,” Sam grinned at you as he grabbed the edge of the door, pulling it closed as he exited.

Cas looked between you and the closed door, “Why is Dean upset with me?”

You gestured at Cas’s unclothed body, “I don’t think Dean was expecting the full monty.”

“I do not understand that reference,” Cas frowned.

“In this case, I mean that you’re completely naked,” you smiled as you gathered his crumpled coat off the floor and tossed it over, “And, you know, the cat’s out of the bag.”

The coat fell at his feet as he stared at you quizzically, “What cat?”

“It’s an idiom,” you ambled over into Cas’s arms, “For our secret being out.” Carding your fingers through his hair you pulled him down for a kiss.

His hand went to your neck, a look of apology on his face as he touched the red welts that had formed from his passionate attentions, “Y/N, I’m sorry. Let me…”

You gently pushed his hand away, staring intently into his blue eyes, “It’s okay. I told you, you could never hurt me.”

He gave a small nod, smiled, and pressed his lips to yours.

A tentative knock came at the door - it was Sam, “Hey, uh, we’re going to grab some breakfast at the diner, meet us there?”

You pulled away from Cas’s soft lips with a sigh, the knock reminding you of the serious situation you all were in with the God tablet. You wanted to stay in this room forever - no worries, no hunting, no Winchesters, no end of creation, just you and your angel. Cas stroked your back reassuringly, understanding your thoughts.

“Yeah Sam, be over in a few,” you shouted in the direction of the door before nuzzling into Cas’s chest. He rested his chin on the top of your head and hugged you tight. You took a deep breath as you stepped back, separating yourself from his warm embrace, “I’m going to grab a quick shower, I’ll meet you over there.”

Cas entered the diner and noted that Sam and Dean were occupying the same booth you two had shared last night. He half-smiled, recalling your hunter’s comment about it being the most tactical choice as he strode to the booth and sat down, giving the brothers a curt nod.

“Hey buddy, what’s new?” Dean popped a piece of bacon into his mouth and winked.

Cas answered him with only a stern squint.

“Dean,” Sam scolded his brother through clenched teeth.

“Thank you for coming,” Cas began.

“That’s what he said,” Dean snorted, grinning wide and shooting a glance at his brother, wanting him to acknowledge the brilliance of his joke.

Sam only pursed his lips and shook his head disapprovingly.

“Aw, come on,” Dean mimed disappointment while looked between Sam and Cas, “Nothing?”

Cas rolled his eyes and looked away.

Dean leaned forward and crossed his arms, knotting his eyebrows in mock-seriousness, “Did you at least have protection?”

“I always have my angel blade,” Cas answered earnestly, “And you know that Y/N is more than capable of defending herself in a variety of situations.”

Dean smirked, shooting Sam a suggestive look, “He had his angel blade.”

Sam couldn’t help but crack a smile, biting his lip to keep from laughing.

“Did she use my last night on earth line?” Dean wondered aloud.

Cas scowled at both of them, clenching his jaw and looking for you out the window – he spotted you in the parking lot making your way over.

“I’m happy for you both, Cas,” Sam kicked Dean under the table, “Y/N’s a great girl.”

“She is more…,” Cas hesitated, scrunching his nose as he concentrated his thoughts, “There are no words you would understand that express what she means to me.”

Dean smiled at Cas apologetically and shrugged, “That’s beautiful man. Really.”

Cas squinted back at Dean suspiciously, and finding him to be sincere, smiled.

Dean clapped him on the shoulder, and grabbed another piece of bacon.

You were taking your time walking over to the diner, knowing full well that Dean was more than likely giving Cas the third degree about last night. Cas was infinitely more patient than you when it came to Dean’s shenanigans and you hoped Dean would be settled down by the time you joined them. You pulled your cell out, wondering why Sam and Dean hadn’t at least texted before they arrived - the battery was dead.

“Dammit,” you shook the cell and flicked it with your finger as if that would make a difference.

You spun to go back to your room for the charger when you noticed Nevin, the motel clerk, standing at the office door waving you over. You recalled that you had asked him to keep you updated if anyone else rolled into town asking about the omens, and wondered if he had some news. You glanced over to the diner, before acknowledging the boy and jogging over to the office.

“Nice weather today, Y/N,” he nodded - holding open the door for you.

You crossed the threshold and took several steps toward the desk as it dawned on you that something was very wrong. You had signed in using an alias and Nevin had just called you by your real name.

You heard the door latch behind you, the sounds of blinds being closed.

“Can’t beat the sunshine,” you slowly turned, reaching into your jacket for the small knife you kept in the inside pocket.

Cas looked toward the motel and stood suddenly from the table, spilling Sam’s coffee in his alarm - you were nowhere to be seen.

“What is it?” Dean looked around, noting that the diner now appeared empty save for the three of them. His hand moved reflexively to his gun.

Sam stood, brushing coffee off his pants, and followed Cas’s gaze toward the motel.

“Y/N!” Cas marched toward the door, “She’s gone.”

“What do you mean gone?” Dean jumped up to follow Cas.

Cas turned to Dean with fear in his eyes, “She was just there in the parking lot, now…”

He was cut off by the sounds of Sam struggling and he and Dean turned in time to see Sam stab the server with a butter knife as she threw him away like a rag doll.

“A little help here?” Sam rolled on the ground as the middle-aged woman pulled the knife from her shoulder, laughing, and tossed it aside.

Before Dean could react, Cas crashed into the server, stabbing her in the chest.

“Castiel,” she glowered, “You have no power here.”

Cas stabbed her again, this time a killing pierce - she erupted in a volcano of light.

“Angels,” he growled through his teeth as he dropped the lifeless vessel and dashed for the door.

Dean helped Sam to his feet, “You good?”

“Yeah,” Sam replied as they followed Cas outside.

Cas stood where he last saw you, looking in every direction before spying the shuttered office door.

“There,” he pointed as Sam and Dean came up behind.

Dean drew the demon knife and tossed Sam the keys to the Impala. Sam nodded understanding, sprinting to the car to get anything that could subdue angels.

Cas and Dean crossed over cautiously to the office, standing silent, listening, on either side of the office door. No sound came from within. Dean reached out and tried the knob and found it locked. He met Cas’s gaze. Cas nodded. Dean kicked in the door and in an instant Cas was inside. He froze, taking in the chaos of the room - broken desk, smashed chairs, picture glass shattered, a hole in the wall, ceiling fan hanging askew, a crushed phone, blood, so much blood. You had put up a tough fight.

He dropped to his knees in front of a small pool of blood on the floor and reached out his fingers to touch it, “Y/N.”

Dean put a hand on his shoulder, “Cas, we’ll get her back.”


	9. Chapter 9

Your eyes were stinging, sweat and blood blurring your vision, choking on the blood in the back of your throat - just as you felt you drew your last struggling breath, the pain dissipated. Briefly you wondered if this was the release of death - your soul maintaining a sense of itself as the body surrendered. The thought passing, your eyes fluttered open and in attempting to recoil from the figure before you, you found yourself shackled to a pillar.

“Nearly there,” the figure had his back to you, “Should have seen the disappointed look on the Reaper’s face. Hilarious.”

You spat blood, rebelling against your chains.

“You should consider yourself lucky I have use for you.” The figure turned, obscured by shadow, “Very few humans in your history have captured the love of an angel and survived. It is never without, shall we call them, consequences.”

You ceased your struggle, instinct stepping in, forcing you to survey the room, to conserve energy. There was one other figure, in the opposite corner, hunched over a desk. No windows, one door, poured concrete walls, cold and damp, probably a basement. There was something about that figure at the desk that drew your eyes back to him.

“How do you think we found you?” The hostile one approached you now, crouching down, his sinister tone betraying a fair featured face, “A human and an angel tangled in sin - the disgrace is a shining beacon.”

The more he talked, the more you realized that perhaps he did not know your true intentions in coming to Green Valley. Maybe he didn’t know about the Winchesters. It was all the more reason for you to say nothing.

“Name him,” the figure roughly grabbed your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“Go to Hell,” you glowered back at him defiantly.

He smirked, “Hmm, loyalty. Humans value it so highly when in truth it is more of an inconvenience than anything else. You will name the angel who defiled himself with you.”

You merely shrugged apathetically, chains clanging. The figure at the desk had stopped his work and turned toward you - there was something familiar in his profile. Your gaze moved back to the sinister figure and you smiled.

“Then I will take it from you,” you watched, helpless, as he plunged his hand into your chest, grabbing and twisting your soul – a cry of indescribable agony escaping your lips.

 

Cas’ hand shot to his chest, face twisting in pain before his knees buckled.

“Cas!” Dean caught the angel before he hit pavement, guiding him to edge of the Impala’s trunk for support.

“What is it?” Sam jogged over, shaking his head, having completed a sweep of the motel and diner and finding no clues and no one, angel or human, left behind.

Cas winced, “Y/N is alive.”

“Well that’s good news,” Dean exchanged a relieved look with Sam, “but what’s with the heart attack?”

“My name was read on her soul,” Cas frowned, unsteadily straightening himself up, “But I now know where to find her.”

“Great, then let’s go,” Dean slammed the trunk closed.

Cas shook his head, “I must go alone.”

“That’s not happening,” Sam blocked Cas’ path.

“Yeah, 3 against 1000 is better odds,” Dean offered an optimistic grin.

“You don’t understand,” Cas frowned, “My brother, Soterasiel, is what you might call a classicist.”

“If by classicist, you mean dick…,” Dean interjected.

Cas rolled his eyes, “I am to be judged for my perceived indiscretion. I don’t believe he knows why I’m really here. More importantly, he doesn’t appear to know that you are here.”

“So you’re being called to the principal’s office for fooling around with Y/N?” Dean sniggered, leaning against the car, “That is classic.”

“Dean,” Sam chided his brother through clenched teeth, glancing back to Cas, “What do we know about Soterasiel?”

“Before he fell, Soterasiel ruled the courts of Heaven,” Cas turned his back, voice gravel, “In God’s absence, his was the divine judgement. Many of us felt he lacked the quality of mercy. He was…deposed.”

“Do we have a plan?” Dean crossed his arms.

“You and Sam, find the God tablet, destroy it. I will offer as much of a distraction as possible,” Cas glanced around uncomfortably, walking away from the brothers, “I must go now. If I delay longer you will be discovered.”

“Good plan,” Dean sneered at Cas’ back, making an exasperated face at Sam, “We’ll just grab the tablet while you keep 1000 angels distracted with your personal airing of The Maury Povich Show.”

“I don’t understand that reference,” Cas shouted over his shoulder in a frustrated tone as he quickly headed toward the highway.

“What about Y/N?” Dean called to Cas’ receding figure.

Cas sighed, rounding the bend out of sight. In the brief moment Soterasiel read his name on your soul, Cas had sensed your pain, your defiance and also an unexplained hope. You had a plan, and he understood in that flash you needed a diversion. He knew marching headlong into a heavenly tribunal would give you the best chance.


	10. Chapter 10

“Castiel is coming.”

The words revived you to your senses, your whole body screaming from within. You could not see the owner of the voice.

“Willingly? Excellent.” Soterasiel appeared to be conferring with another angel at the top of the basement stairs, “Inform the others. I want all accounted for today, an example is to be made. Ready the court.”

“And the human?” The voice inquired disaffectedly.

Soterasiel aimed a castigatory glance in your direction, “With some encouragement I’ve heard her complete testimony. You may dispose of her after the trial.”

Your upper lip trembled involuntarily at his words. You prayed to Cas to stay far away even though you knew he wouldn’t, because if the situation were reversed, you would risk everything to save him too.

“Prophet, how close?” Soterasiel’s voice cut through the damp air.

Your eyes moved to the figure at the desk. He sat up straight, shoulders tensing, “It’s hard to say. Close, I think. The phrasing, it’s different, challenging, disorganized. Close, uh, soon.”

It was him, your eyes had not deceived you.

“I’m growing weary of your excuses,” Soterasiel grumbled, wagging a finger, “You will have more translated for me when I return. You know the consequences should you fail in your task.”

The door slammed - the sound of a lock snapping into place. ‘Good,’ you thought, a lock meant maybe no guard. You could handle a lock, but after the debacle with the angel using Nevin as a vessel, you weren’t too sure about taking on another unfriendly angel - especially one instructed to dispose of you. You held your breath, listening intently, two sets of footsteps marching away, then silence.

“Y/N, are you okay?” The figure stepped around the desk, stopping at a boundary unapparent to you, but to which he was inexorably restricted.

“Kevin Tran,” a relieved grin spread across your face, “I’m more than alright. But how in God’s name are you here? You’re dead.”

“God had nothing to do with it, at least not directly,” Kevin frowned, leaning back on the desk, slouching his shoulders, “I was stuck in the veil. That asshat who just assaulted your soul pulled me out. Well, part of me anyway.” He passed his hand through the lamp on the desk to illustrate, his hand dissolving and then reforming an instant later, “He’s holding my mother’s soul hostage in Heaven, forcing me to translate this tablet or he will throw her to Hell. It’s a God tablet – God! I can’t begin to tell you the power in this thing. I’m giving him as little as possible, the less dangerous stuff, maybe, I think, it’s all pretty bad, I don’t know how much longer I can delay,” he professed rapidly, “I’m just happy to see you.”

“Sam and Dean are here too,” your tone was hushed, “We know about the tablet, and the angels.”

“What do we do?” Kevin stood back up, a glint of hope in his eyes.

You flashed him a heartening smile, “For starters, is there anything in that tablet to get me out of these chains?”

Kevin smiled, nodding, scrambling back around the desk to riffle through his notes, “Something I found about a pillar of salt might work.”

Cas walked down the center of Green Valley’s main street, face stern, jaw set under the scrutiny of his brothers and sisters lining the sidewalks peering out of open doors and windows. Men, women, children - all vessels for angels but for all appearances to outsiders, simple small town humans. Soft murmuring of voices like an ambling brook followed in his wake as the angels joined behind in his march, summoned to witness the tribunal. At the end of the street stood a quaint church, white spire reaching into the sky, bell tolling in a long low tone, and in the church door he could see Soterasiel waiting, eager as ever to dispense his particular brand of justice. Cas allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch into a small smile – it was exactly as he expected - all of the angels in the town were being assembled together, all eyes would be on him. You and the Winchesters would have your chance. Cas’ smile faded against the sudden resignation to his fate. He sensed you were close, praying to him this very moment to stay away, to turn around – with each step he felt the desperation of your soul reaching out to him. He closed his eyes against the thought that he would never see you again.

You pressed your ear to the door – shuffling, definitely movement. You scampered down the stairs, voice a whisper, “Someone’s out there.”

Kevin looked around helplessly, the basement had been stripped bare save for his desk. You both eyed the old-fashioned iron lamp on the desk in the same instant. Flashing Kevin a half-smile, you grabbed the lamp and rushed back to the door, positioning yourself to be shielded behind when it opened. The lock disengaged, and when the door creaked open and a head appeared, you swung the lamp down as hard as you could, making solid contact. You raised your arms up for another blow before Dean’s unconscious figure could even hit the floor.

“Woah,” Sam had your arms firmly in his grip, “Y/N, it’s us.”

As you began to fully appreciate the situation, you inadvertently dropped the lamp.

Releasing your arms, Sam deftly caught it with his free hand before it could crash to the floor, “You good?”

You nodded, crouching to examine Dean’s bleeding forehead, “Don’t you two ever knock?”

Sam smiled meekly and shrugged, “Historically speaking, uh, I guess not.” His gaze shifted across the dark basement, settling on Kevin.

Kevin waved politely.

Sam’s eyebrows shifted up his forehead in surprise and he looked back to you.

“It’s Kevin, I mean, some of Kevin anyway,” you offered.

Dean began to come around, moaning. Seeing you safe, he grabbed his head and grumbled, “Forget any comments I have ever made about you hitting like a girl.”

“Nice to see you too,” you laughed lightly, helping him to sit up, “how’d you get past all the angels?”

“What angels? Mandatory family reunion, Cas is the guest of honor,” Dean squinted, rubbing his eyes and blinking several times, “Kevin?” He looked up at Sam in disbelief, “Is that Kevin, or a concussion?”

“It’s a good thing I’m already dead, or I would die of boredom waiting for you guys to move,” Kevin spoke up, brandishing the God tablet over his head, “Take it, please, just promise me you’ll see that my mother stays in Heaven. After everything, she deserves peace.”

You helped Dean to his feet and crossed the room, hesitantly taking the tablet from Kevin, “We’ll do everything in our power.”

“That’s not a promise,” Kevin sulked, lowering his chin and looking away from you.

“I know,” you passed the tablet to Dean, who tucked it into the inner pocket of his jacket.

Sam approached the desk uncertainly, “Kevin, you know I’m really sorry about what happened.”

Kevin shook his head, “It wasn’t your fault. Angels, right? They’re all a bunch of self-centered asshats swatting us like flies.”

Sam bobbed his head agreement, “What are you going to do now?”

“I need a favor, and I’d say you guys owe me one or two, the prophet gig wasn’t exactly all rainbows and kittens,” Kevin sat down in the chair, pointing up to the carving above him in ceiling. The sigil was manifesting his spirit from within the veil – he was confined to the small area in the basement like a lightning bug in a jar. There was no way to set him free, except to release his spirit back to the veil.

Sam and Dean exchanged a knowing look, and Sam withdrew a knife from his pocket. None of them realized you had slipped away in search of Cas.

“Castiel, how do you plead to the charges here presented?” Soterasiel strutted in front of the altar, sure of his righteousness, lost in his own spectacle.

“What difference does it make how I plead? You’ve already determined the outcome of this trial. I think you suffer from what humans call,” Cas motioned with his fingers to form air quotes, “Control issues.” He scowled grimly at his accuser, refusing again to cooperate, prolonging the proceedings, giving you the time you needed to escape. The shirt beneath his buttoned trench coat was becoming increasingly warm and sticky with oozing blood – crimson not yet seeping through the outer layer of fabric to betray his ultimate intent. It wouldn’t be long though - he hoped you would hurry to safety. Then he heard your prayer and his heart sank, a single phrase - ‘Castiel, hold on.’ He knew you were trying to rescue him. He knew Soterasiel would smite you in front of him and call it a lesson. He knew his time was up. “No,” he grimaced, squeezing a shard of glass tightly in his fist – a trickle of blood running from his hand to the floor beside his feet.

“No is not an appropriate response. Guilty, or not guilty,” Soterasiel stopped suddenly, turning on his heel, “What are you doing, what’s that in your hand?”

Cas looked apologetically to the pews neatly arrayed in the church, eyes dancing over the massive gathering of misguided angels seated thereon, spilling into the aisles, packed into the corners, “I’m sorry, his is not the way.”

“Speak when you are spoken to, and answer my questions directly. Are you not familiar with the traditions of the court of divine law?” Soterasiel pounded his fists angrily together.

Cas continued gazing sadly out at the other angels. He reached across his chest, tearing open his coat and shirt, revealing a banishing sigil carved deep into his chest. “I’m sorry,” he said again, under his breath, the words meant for you this time, as he slammed his bleeding palm to his chest. The room erupted in a blinding light, Cas at the center. Angels tried unsuccessfully to flee over each other, but all were enveloped and thrown separately into the far reaches of the world. The look of utter astonishment on Soterasiel’s face lingered in the divine light long after his vessel had vanished.


	11. Chapter 11

You crept upward out of the basement, hugging the walls with your body, listening keenly. Behind you, the voices of Sam and Dean speaking to Kevin faded away. White knuckled, you clenched the demon knife in your hand - having lifted it, unbeknownst to Dean, when you helped him to his feet. You knew it wouldn’t stop an angel, let alone 1000, but it nonetheless boosted your resolve. The paneled basement door opened into an ostentatiously furnished church rectory. A door leading to the exterior was ajar - you assumed this was how Sam and Dean entered. Your eyes fell to an ornately carved heavy wooden door opposite - crossing the room, you stopped in front of it. Your ears caught the deep timbre of Cas’ voice on the other side. Soundlessly, you slid aside a hidden panel in the center of the door and peered through – the breath escaping your chest at the scene on the other side. The church was packed tight with angels – you were certain it must be all of the angels in the town. Cas was standing behind and to the side of the alter nearest the rectory, his back turned to you. Soterasiel paced angrily in front of him. Cas held his hands up, curling his fingers and gesturing, “Control issues.”

‘Castiel, hold on,’ you prayed, your mind racing to come up with a way to rescue him. You observed his shoulders tense, hand dropping to his side in a tightly closed fist, the first drop of blood splashing to the stark white marble floor. You understood Cas’ plan instantly – he intended to banish all the angels present using himself as a sigil. You also knew the power required to do it would tear him apart. He planned to sacrifice himself so that you and the Winchesters might escape and destroy the tablet. The tablet was already secured; the world was practically saved - your hand moved to the doorknob without thinking. The time for thinking was over, it was time for acting – you weren’t going to let Cas die out there alone in front of a church full of dicks who despised him. The door stuck stubbornly. You shoved your shoulder into it forcefully.

You could hear Soterasiel’s voice escalating with fury, “…traditions of the court of divine law?”

You rammed the door again with the brunt force of your full body, stumbling out onto the alter as Cas tore asunder his coat and shirt.

Soterasiel’s mouth gaped in dawning realization, his eyes whirling with hate, gaze shifting from Cas to you and back again.

You recovered your balance, redirecting your forward momentum toward Cas, throwing your arms tightly around his shoulders just as he activated the sigil. You had no thought for your own life in that moment, only knowing that you needed to reach to him, to hold him, to tell him everything he meant to you, even if it might be the last thing you would ever do.

Eyes blinded by the light, every atom of his being fighting implosion from within, Cas heard your voice whispering softly in his ear - about the first time you met, about last night, about the days to come - part of him wondered if this was what it was like to dream. The words didn’t matter - the very core of his existence responded to your touch – the strength of love within your soul holding his grace secure like an anchor in the storm.

When it was over, all the angels were gone, save yours - and he collapsed, spent, in your embrace.

You eased him gently to the floor, kneeling to rest his head on your lap, smoothing back the hair from his pale forehead, “Castiel?”

His eyelids fluttered feebly.

You sighed in relief, tenderly pressing your lips to his – he was alive.

After a moment, you leaned back - his weary blue eyes locking on yours in recognition, ebbed in confusion, questioning.

You shook your head, tears welling over, “I don’t know how.”

His voice strained to form words, faltering, concerned, “… you hurt? Why…crying?”

Laughing lightly, you rubbed the tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand, “Not hurt. Relieved, overjoyed. I’m crying because I’m happy.”

“…don’t understand,” his brow furrowed weakly.

“Of course you don’t understand, my silly, stubborn, selfless angel,” a smile spread across your features, “You know, I don’t believe I will ever get tired of explaining things to you.”

Your smile mirrored in Cas’ face, “Good.”

Dean cleared his throat from the rectory door, “If you two are done with the Lifetime movie of the week moment…”

Sam elbowed Dean in the side, “What Dean meant to say is, are you alright?”

“Yeah guys, we’re good,” you continued to focus your attention on Cas, reflexively tracing your fingers delicately over the deep cuts of the sigil on his chest, trailing a soft light, the wounds closing in their wake. Cas reached his hand up in surprise to grasp yours and you turned the palm upward, kissing and healing the jagged wound thereon, the last of his grace flowing from the recesses of your soul to heal him. You turned your gaze to the brothers, “He just needs some rest now, a little help?”

Sam and Dean hoisted the angel up, supporting his weight between them.

You attempted to stand, and stumbled, falling back to your knees, suddenly feeling an overwhelming fatigue. Sam moved quickly to your side, lifting you up as you gratefully wrapped your arms around his neck before passing out.

“She’s waking up,” Sam’s voice was hushed.

“We’ll give you a few minutes, come on Sammy,” Dean spoke softly.

“Y/N?” Cas whispered, clasping your hand between his.

You blinked against the sunlight streaming through the window behind him, brightening his silhouette like a halo, “Hey, angel.”

Relieved, he brought your hand to his lips, kissing it.

“Where are we?” You reached out, caressing his cheek.

“The honeymoon cabin,” he rolled his eyes, “Dean found it amusing.”

“Did he?” You smiled.

“Because I tried to leave you at the alter,” he added.

“But you didn’t,” your smile deepened.

“You saved me, saved my grace,” he gazed at you, awestruck, “I don’t under…”

“We saved each other,” you ghosted your fingers over his lips, quieting him, “I understand that much.”

“Hey there sleepy head,” Dean stepped up to the end of the bed, Sam looming over his shoulder.

“Dean, Sam,” you moved to sit up, Cas shifting his arm behind you for support. You looked past the brothers, “Where’s Kevin?”

Sam shook his head regretfully, “There was nothing we could do, he’s back in the veil.”

You slumped your chin to your chest sadly, “And the tablet?”

Dean patted his coat pocket.

“You mean you haven’t destroyed it?” You raised your voice in shock.

“Not for lack of trying,” Cas rubbed your knee to calm you, “It seems to be protected.”

“Let me see about that,” you beckoned Dean to hand the tablet over.

He shrugged, sliding the stone from his pocket and placing it on your lap.

You rested your palm across the stone, uttering a single Enochian word, “Nanad.”

The tablet instantly transformed into a mass of glinting white.

Cas half-grinned, greatly amused, “Salt.”

“How did you do that?” Dean attempted to pick the tablet up, his touch fracturing it into a million individual crystals.

“That trick,” Sam chuckled, “Could come in handy in a pinch.”

“Pun intended?” You grinned.

“Pun intended,” Sam bobbed his head.

Cas’ voice dropped low, “The word relied on the tablet for power, unfortunately it will no longer have any effect.”

Dean touched a nearby taxidermy tortoise, “Nanad.” When nothing happened, he punched the air indignantly, “Dammit, just when we get something useful!”

You squeezed Cas’ hand, laughing exuberantly at Dean’s antics.

Cas smiled easily back at you, speaking the volume of his love for you in the twinkling of his eyes.


End file.
